


The Laws of Nature, Part 1:  Kismet and Chemistry

by Moon_Called



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 07:11:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Called/pseuds/Moon_Called
Summary: Elliot Stabler and Dani Beck reconnect after a chance meeting in Los Angeles at a Law Enforcement Conference.





	The Laws of Nature, Part 1:  Kismet and Chemistry

**Author's Note:**

> **RATED PG:** For innuendo, language, and a bit of light macking.
> 
>  **WARNINGS:** This ‘might’ evolve into a crossover story with _Law & Order: Criminal Intent_. Forewarned, forearmed—grasshoppers.
> 
>  **CREDITS and DISCLAIMERS:** I first posted this story on my Draoi_Mistriess LJ in 2008. Brianna and Kevin Whelan are my creations. This story was not beta’d. All mistakes are mine (I never see them all until after I've posted).
> 
>  _Marco Polo_ is from the _Book of Secrets_ CD (1997) by Loreena McKinnitt. It is an amazingly erotic combination of Celtic harps, pipes, and Eastern drums. 
> 
> All characters associated with _Law & Order: Special Victims Unit_ and _Law & Order: Criminal Intent_ belong to Dick Wolf and NBC Universal. The use of these characters is for fun, not profit. **No harm is intended**.
> 
>  **CAVEAT:** From my memory of a visit to LA in 1993. The 3rd Street Promenade, Santa Monica Place Mall, King George the IV (a British Pub), Hamburger Hamlet (across from Brentwood Gardens and in Westwood), and the Westwood Mann and Village theaters were among my favorite haunts. I claim ‘poetic license’ if some of the places named in my story no longer exist. The Mansfield hotel (and location) is modeled after an actual Santa Monica beach hotel--but I've embellished some.

Detective Elliot Stabler sat up with a start and looked out the window.   Seated just behind the right wing, he could see the flaps adjust to help slow the jet during its final approach into LAX.   He relaxed back in his seat and closed his eyes.  A few minutes later a slight bounce roused him again as the wheels of the plane touched down on the tarmac.  He yawned and rubbed his face as the plane taxied to a stop and the pilot welcomed his passengers to Los Angeles.

Elliot wasn’t in a big hurry to breathe the LA smog, so he settled back in his seat and waited for the jet to empty.  Once most of the passengers had departed, he stood and stretched his stiff muscles, backing into his row as stragglers made their way up the aisle.  The air marshal nodded at Elliot as he passed and then studiously ignored the flight attendant and captain when he exited the plane.

Trailing behind the marshal, Elliot soon found himself lost in a mass of humanity as he sorted out the signs and made his way to the luggage carousel.   Propelled by will power alone in his sleep-fogged state he was oblivious to the admiring glances cast his way, despite his rumpled appearance, by both sexes hurrying to their destinations.

Picking up his weapon from Airport Security was understandably more involved than checking it in at LaGuardia.  The security team reviewed his badge and NYPD identification, carrier permit, his firing range competency card, and driver’s license for forty-five minutes before handing over his weapon.  He didn’t sweat it though.  He believed the new Federal law allowing law enforcement officers to carry concealed weapons in all the fifty states was a good thing.  One last stop as airport security checked his boarding pass against his luggage claim ticket at the airport exit and he was finally outside. 

A pair of Sunglasses did little to shield his blurry eyes from the bright morning sun after the slate-gray sky and blistery cold of Manhattan.  Elliot squinted and looked up in pleasant surprise at the clear, China-blue sky.   Standing in the Los Angeles desert basin on this Sunday morning wasn’t quite the smog-induced kiss of death he’d imagined.  He smiled as balmy 68-degree weather melted his frigid memory of the 10-degree temperature he’d left behind.  He wasn’t fooled by the warmth, though, and was glad he had packed his leather jacket.  The last time he’d visited LA in winter it had been warm during the day, cool in the evening, and downright cold in the beach communities.

Elliot shifted his heavy coat to his other arm and carried his suitcase over to a group of men and women standing next to a hotel shuttle bus with a sign that read:

**The Mansfield Santa Monica Beach Hotel Welcomes**

**the 2006 American Law Enforcement Conference**

**November 27th – December 1st**

The shuttle driver approached him with a clipboard and moved his pencil down to the only unchecked name on the list.  “Detective Stabler?”  He asked, looking up.  

Elliot nodded and presented his identification. 

“Great.  You’re the last pickup on this run.”  The driver turned to the rest of the group.  “If you’ll all please bring your luggage around to the passenger side of the shuttle, I’ll get everything loaded and then we’ll be on our way.”  He loaded the luggage in the side compartment of the shuttle while the police officers climbed the stairs of the bus and settled into their seats.

The others in the group, thirty in all, moved and looked like Elliot felt.  He took some small comfort in knowing he wasn’t the only cop who’d been yanked away from a busy caseload.  He imagined most of them had been pulled away from busy families as well.  His mood darkened at that thought.  He wondered what his kids were doing and whether Kathy had let them sleep in or had gotten them up for morning Mass.  He looked down at his left hand, still mourning, but slowly accepting, the missing ring he’d worn for twenty-one years.  

His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet argument between a couple seated directly behind him.  The argument stopped suddenly and someone tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, but did the driver call you Detective Stabler?”  A woman’s voice asked.

“Yeah,” he said over his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t happen to be _Elliot_ Stabler by any chance, would you?”

Something in the woman’s voice made Elliot turn around.  He met a pair of inquisitive green eyes set in an attractive face.  The burly, dark-haired man seated next to her looked both perturbed and embarrassed. 

“Yeah,” Elliot said with a bite of irritation.  “Who are you?”

“Sorry ... I’m Detective Brianna Whelan and this is my husband, Kevin.”

“How you doing,” the burly man said with a nod. 

“I work out of One P.P. in the Major Case unit and Kevin is a lieutenant in Brooklyn Homicide out of the three-four.”

“Major Case, huh?  Do you know detectives Goren and Eames?”

 “Yeah,” she said dryly.  “ _Eames_ is a friend.” 

Elliot turned away for a second to hide his smile.  Bobby Goren was a great detective, but he could irritate the most patient of saints.  “I work in Manhattan SVU out of the one-six,” he said.

“I know.” Brianna replied, with a sly smile and a tilt of her head.  “We have a mutual friend.”

“Oh yeah?  And who might that be?”

“Well …”

“Brie,” Kevin interrupted with a shake of his head.  He ran a hand through her auburn curls and brought their foreheads together.  “Trust me, babe.  We should stay outta this.  Okay?”

She sighed and gave him a quick peck on his chin.  “Okay.  So, Elliot,” she said, turning to face him again. “How about joining us for dinner tonight?”

  _Whacko_ , Elliot thought. “Thanks, but I just finished a 37-hour stretch and I won’t see much beyond my pillow tonight.”  He said with a smile, then turned around in his seat and closed his eyes.  The Whelans resumed their argument.   He tried to ignore them, but he quickly gave up and listened in.

_“You just had to get involved, didn’t you?_

_“Honey, it’s fate.”_

_“Fate?”_

_“Yeah, fate.”_

_There was a dry chuckle.  “How’s that?”_

_“Well, we flew in on the same plane.”_

_There was a snort.  “So did thirty other cops, Brie.  That don’t mean squat.”_

_“Except we wouldn’t have been on the same plane if Joey hadn’t thrown up on us.  I mean, think about it.  If we hadn’t canceled our first flight we wouldn’t’ have been on 'this' flight and we wouldn’t be sitting on 'this' shuttle.  I tell you, its fate.”_

_“You’re a crazy lady, you know that?   Remind me again why I put up with you?”_

_“Because you love me?”_

_“Nah, that’s not it.”_

_“Because I’m the mother of your five children?”_

_“Nope.  And you get no props at all for the one who threw up on my favorite shoes.”_

_“I see.  Well … is it because of that special thing I do when …” she whispered something in Kevin’s ear._

_“Brie!”  The woman giggled.  “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”  There was a slight pause.  “For the record, though, I really like that special thing you do …”_

_“I should hope so.”_

_“ … but that’s not it either.”_

_“Hmmm … is it the French toast I make you every weekend?”_

_“Oh, yeah … **that’s** why I put up with you!”  There were more giggles followed closely by a sigh._

_“What’s wrong, babe?”_

_“Nothing.  It’s just … I really miss the kid—“_

_“Don’t say the ‘K’ word,” Kevin warned.  “If you say it, they will come; or at least call, and I’m looking forward to a nice relaxing week alone with my wife ... and four hundred cops.”_

_“I’m worried about Joey.”_

_“Dr. Ryan said if he didn’t have a temperature it was probably just an upset stomach.”_

_“I know …”_

_“I mean it’s not like we ran out the door, there.  We called the doctor and then stuck around another twelve hours to make sure he didn’t develop a temp.”_

_“Yeah, but …”_

_“Honey, we agreed not to say the ‘K’ word until tomorrow morning, didn’t we?”   There was a slight pause, then a deep sigh.  “Listen, we’ll call Maggie on her cell when we get up to our room and check on Joey.  Okay?”_

_“Okay.  Love you.”_

_“Love you more.”_

_There was a long yawn.  “I’m so sleepy.”_

_“Aw, babe … I’m really tired …”_

_“Not 'that' kind of sleepy, you idiot,” she said with a little laugh.  “The ‘other’ sleepy.  I’m tired, too.”_

Elliot smiled as he eavesdropped on their banter.  He almost regretted having said that he couldn’t join them for dinner.  He looked out the window and counted the passing palm trees to keep from dozing, but he loss count as soon as he saw a blue crest on the horizon.  He loved the ocean.

He looked over his sunglasses as the shuttle pulled up to the front entrance of a swanky hotel.   It seemed for once the Conference planning committee had gotten it right.  The hotel was actually right on the beach.   He could hear the ocean as he and the other tired cops stumbled out of the shuttle.

*     *     *     *     *      *

The New York City police officers entered the hotel lobby and stood for a moment, looking around them.  Live, twenty-foot palm trees lined the aisle from the hotel entrance to the waiting area before the front desk.  The trees, in huge white planters with subdued lighting, reached toward the domed glass ceiling that crowned an eight-story atrium.  Each planter sat next to an end table and lamp, accenting row after row of couches and comfortable chairs facing each other.

There was a huge banner stretched from one side of the atrium to the other that read:

                                                                  **Welcome Law Enforcement Officers!**

**We Are Grateful for Your Service and Protection.**

**_“We sleep safe in our beds because rough men stand ready in_**

**_the night to_ ** **_visit violence on those who would do us harm.”  --George Orwell_ **

There were six lines at the front desk, so it wasn’t long before a young woman motioned Elliot forward.  He asked questions about the hotel’s Fitness Center and hours of operation while she checked him in.   She raved about the cardio machines and separate weight room and then handed him a colorful brochure.  As he signed his receipt, she confided that New York City police officers were among the lucky conference attendees assigned ocean front rooms with balconies.   She pointed Elliot to a bank of elevators and then motioned for a bellhop when she noticed how tired he was.   After a final flourish of typing, she formatted his room’s key-card. 

“Here you go, Detective Stabler,” she said with a sympathetic smile when he yawned.   She slipped the card inside a holder with his room number on it and handed it to him. “I’ve put you in a corner room for a bit more quiet and privacy.”

He gave her a grateful smile.  “Thanks, Lourdes.”  He said, reading the name on her badge.  “You’re an angel of mercy.”  Then he turned and followed the Bell Hop.

“Elliot!”  Brianna yelled, just as he entered the elevator.  He put a hand in front of the sensor and looked at her.  “Aren’t you even a little bit curious about who might be joining us for dinner tonight?”

Elliot narrowed his eyes and looked at her.  His cop instinct kicked in before he could say the sharp reply that was on the tip of his tongue.  He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and his gut clench.  He had learned to trust his cop instincts over the years and Brianna’s body language, and that of her husband’s beside her (though Kevin looked as if he wanted to melt into the floor from embarrassment), was affecting him.  It was the desperate need to get to his room that made him huff out a sigh and ask her, “What time?”

Brianna collapsed back against her husband with relief.  “Meet us in the hotel restaurant at 8:30.  And bring a jacket!”  She added, as the elevator doors close

*        *         *        *       *       *        *  

The alarm went off at 7:30.  Elliot hit the snooze bar twice before switching off the alarm and turning over in bed to stretch.  He clicked on the lamp and saw that he had forty-minutes to shower, shave, and dress.  He sat up on the edge of the bed with another stretch and a yawn.  He had slept for seven hours; just a drop in the bucket on his sleep tab, but he’d make up for it tonight.  Sessions on the first day of the Conference always started at 1 pm.

He glanced around the room with interest on his way to the bathroom, admiring the yellow, white, ochre, and brown décor.  He’d failed to notice it earlier.  After tipping the Bell Hop, he had forced himself to unpack.  Then he’d closed the curtains and barely managed to set the alarm and strip out of his clothes before crawling beneath the covers and falling into a deep sleep.

Elliot relieved himself and then stepped into the shower.  The hot spray from a pulsating showerhead felt good on his stressed body.  After five minutes, he felt more alert.  His mind went over the events of the morning and his conversation with Brianna Whelan.  He should have pressed her harder for a name after she teased him about their ‘mutual’ friend.  The last thing he wanted was to spend an evening with some asshole from his past when he could be in the sack catching up on missed sleep.  When he pulled on a dark-blue N.Y.P.D. sweatshirt and jeans his stomach reminded him just how hungry he was.  He grabbed his key-card, wallet, and leather jacket and headed out the door.

The hotel’s restaurant was a large and surprisingly intimate affair.   There was muted lighting and a huge circular stone fireplace in the center of the room on a raised platform.  Crescent-shaped couches with large, colorful pillows surrounded the fireplace.  The entire left side of the restaurant was floor to ceiling windows, giving the guests an unobstructed view of the beach, the ocean, and glorious sunsets.  Yellow linen-covered tables with stylish chairs occupied all the space surrounding the couch-cocooned fireplace.  The deck beyond the windows had five or six seating areas surrounding outdoor fireplaces.  _Nice_ , thought Elliot.  _I wonder what the bar looks like?_

“Good Evening, sir!  May I seat you?” A perky Hostess asked with a bright smile. 

“Uh … could you check and see if you have a reservation in the name of Whelan?”

“Oh, are you Detective Stabler?  They asked me to bring you to their table.  If you’ll come this way,” she said, leading him to the left side of the room toward a table in the corner. “Can I have your server bring you something from the bar?”

“Yeah.  Any domestic beer you have on tap.  Thanks.”

Elliot slowed his stride as they approached the table.  Brianna and Kevin were facing him, but he couldn’t see the third person’s face.  There was, however, something eerily familiar about the back of her head … her hair … and the set of her shoulders.   He stopped completely when he was four feet from the table.   She was talking, but the rush of blood in his ears blurred her words.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into coming.”  She said.  “I could be up stairs reading a good book. “  She took a swallow from her glass.  “Who is this ‘old friend’ anyway?”

“Dani?”

Dani froze when he said her name.   She glanced over at Brianna, whose face was a portrait of innocence.   She turned in her chair and looked at him.  Her eyes were large and moist, drinking him in from head to toe and back again, as if she didn’t quite believe he was actually standing in front of her.  “Elliot?”  She breathed.   Then she was out of her chair and in his arms. 

He buried his nose in her hair and drank in the familiar herbal scent.  The heat from her body warmed him in places he never knew were chilled.   He gently pushed her away so she wouldn’t feel his budding erection.  He looked into her eyes and cupped the side of her face, brushing her cheek with his thumb.  He desperately wanted to kiss her; but there was a ‘goodbye’ and two months of silence between them.

Dani seemed to have similar thoughts.  The warmth in her eyes cooled a bit as she returned to her seat.

Elliot sat in the chair opposite Kevin and discretely folded his leather jacket across his lap.  Kevin gave him a knowing wink over his pint glass. 

Their server, who had been standing discretely to the side, handed Elliot a menu and set a pint of beer down in front of him.   Elliot took an experimental sip and then gave the glass an appreciative nod.  “This is good.  What is it?”

“Killian’s larger,” their server, Paul, said.  “Are you ready to order, or would you like a few more minutes?”  He asked the table.

“I’ll have the Black Angus Filet,” Kevin said.

Elliot, who had just opened his menu, shut it at the mention of steak. “Make that two,” he said.  “I’ll take mine well-done.”

“The same,” Kevin said.  Then he looked at his wife’s raised eyebrow.  “Now, before you start, it comes with asparagus and a sweet potato.”  Brianna raised the other eyebrow.  “Aw, babe … I’m on vacation, sort of.  I’ll eat tofu and rice cakes two days next week, promise. “Brianna folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, three days.  Just let me enjoy my steak tonight without tales of Count Cholesterol, okay?”

Brianna looked skyward with a shake of her head.  She and Dani both ordered the herb-roasted chicken.

“Well,” Brianna said into the awkward silence at the table after the server walked away, “isn’t this cozy … boy, girl, boy, girl?”

Dani folded her arms on the table and looked at Elliot in that direct way of hers.  “You didn’t call,” she said.

“Neither did you.”

A small furrow appeared on her forehead.  “Why in the hell would I?   You made it quite clear you didn’t want me around.”

“No …” Elliot held up a finger, “I said I couldn’t ask you to stay in SVU just for me, and then _you_ said goodbye.”

“But you didn’t say you wanted—“

“Listen,” Kevin interrupted,  “we’re gonna go over to the bar and give you two a minute.”

“No, don’t go.”  Elliot rubbed his tired eyes and then looked at Dani.  There was so much he wanted to say to her, but now was not the time.  Instead, he raised his glass and said, “Truce?”

Dani ducked her head with a small shake and licked her lips.  She looked up at him with a ghost of a smile and clicked her glass against his.  “Truce,” she said.  She took a sip of beer and then flicked her eyes over to Brianna.

Brie shrugged apologetically.  “Surprise?”  She said.

“I tried to stop her, but you know how she gets,” said Kevin.

“Oh yeah,” Dani groused, “I bet you were a great help.”

“Hey listen, Xena, don’t go all Warrior Princess on me, all right?”  He raised his glass to his lips.  “Not unless you can do that yell of hers,” he said before taking a sip.

They all laughed, and suddenly the tension was gone.  Elliot leaned back in his chair and smiled as he listened to the banter.   By the time their food arrived, the conversation had turned to work and kids.  They shared photos.  The Whelans brought out pictures of their five kids aged twenty-two, nineteen, seventeen, fifteen, and eight.   Elliot brought out pictures of Maureen, Kathleen, Elizabeth, and Dickie.    He was surprised when Dani brought out her pictures, and smiled as she proudly bragged about her numerous nieces and nephews. 

“You have six brothers?”  he asked.

“Yeah,” Kevin answered for her.  “And you should see these guys.  They really put the ‘V’ in Viking.  Dani here’s the runt of the litter.”

Dani laughed at the look on Elliot’s face.  “My brothers still make fun of me because I stopped growing at 5 feet 10 inches.   Everyone else in my family is over 6 feet, including my mother.”

Next the Whelans regaled Elliot with the antics of their youngest child, eight-year old Joey—Dani’s Godchild.  Brie and Kevin argued amiably about who had been responsible for their little surprise package.   Elliot smiled as he remembered his own roll of the dice with the rhythm method of birth control.

“Admit it, babe.  It was your fault.”

“Was not!”

“ _You_ wore that green silk thingy with those gold coins,” Kevin accused.

“And _you_ ripped it off,” Brie smugly replied.

 _“Oh Kevin, wait 'til you see what I learned today in belly dancing class!”_   Kevin said, mimicking Brie’s voice.

Dani and Brie giggled.  “I remember when we took that class,” Dani said.

Elliot blinked at her. “You know how to belly dance?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Dani tilted her head gave him a flirtatious look, her eyes full of suggestion, “Yeah, don’t look so surprised,” she said. 

“It’s a great workout for the core muscles.” Brie said, patting her toned stomach.

“Among other things,” Kevin said with a snort.  This caused another fit of giggles from his wife and Dani.

“And that music … what was it called?”

Brie’s right hand caressed the back of his neck.  “ _Marco Polo_ , by Loreena Mckennitt.

Elliot yawned and glanced at his watch.  It was 10:45.  “Sorry,” he said when they looked at him.  “I’ve got a bad case of sleep deprivation.  I’m gonna have to call it a night.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”  Kevin agreed.

“I was going to suggest a stroll along the beach,” Brie said with a yawn of her own.  “But then Kevin would have to carry me to our room.  Why don’t we all meet for dinner tomorrow at 6:30?” she suggested, glancing at the others.

“Sounds good.”  Elliot stood and looked around the table, his eyes lingering on Dani.  “Good night,” he said with a smile.

“Nice ass,” Brie said, watching Elliot’s jean-clad rear as he swaggered towards the exit.

“Isn’t it?” Dani agreed.

Kevin sputtered on his beer.  “Mixed company, mixed company!” he said, his face turning bright red.  “Can we please not talk about another man’s ass?”  His embarrassed plea was met with laughter 

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

The next morning Elliot arrived at the Fitness Center just minutes before Dani, Brie, and Kevin walked through the door.  He and Kevin paired up and he was surprised by the easy camaraderie between them, encouraged by their mutual Marine tattoos.  While they spotted each other in the weight room, he asked about the Whelans’ relationship with Dani and Mike Dooley.

“Mikey and I grew up together,” said Kevin.  He moved behind Elliot and spotted him while he did his bench presses.  “Our parents were best friends and us kids hung out and stuff.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”  Kevin lowered his hands beneath the bar when Elliot’s muscles started to fatigue.  “Come on buddy, just two more.  That’s it.”  He and Elliot changed places.  “We joined the Core together.  I opted out after my tour ended because we had a toddler at home and Brie was pregnant again, but Mikey re-upped. “  He stopped talking and performed his presses.   He forced three more reps at Elliot's urging and then sat up on the bench.

“Mike was stationed in Germany on his third tour of duty when he met Dani.   He wrote and told us that he thought he’d found ‘the one,’ then he called us five months later and said he was getting married.  We really didn’t know what to expect, you know … some sweet young thang from Denmark.”  He and Elliot drank a cup of water from the cooler and then headed for the free weights.  

“So, when did you finally meet her?”

“We met Dani for the first time when we flew over with Mike’s family for the wedding.”  He paused and chuckled, with an affectionate look on his face.  “He threatened death and bodily harm if I didn’t show and act as his best man.  We fell in love with her at first sight.  She was bright, charming, and completely in love with Mike.  Brie was thrilled to meet somebody with whom she could literally see eye to eye.  Look at ‘em over there.  They’re both Amazons. “

Elliot glanced over at the two women wearing N.Y.P.D. tank tops and alternating punches and sidekicks against two sandbags.   Both women were sweaty and determined.  Brie, about an inch shorter than Dani, was just as fit and svelte.  Her pale smooth skin and red hair were a perfect complement to Dani’s Scandinavian features.

Elliot grinned.  “Amazons, huh?”

“Yeah, and tomboys, too … but if you repeat what I said I’ll deny it to the death.”  He got on the leg press machine while Elliot worked his deltoids.  “I’d been on the force eight years and had made sergeant when Dani and Mike returned home.   It wasn’t a big leap for either of them to join the force, with Mike’s military background and Dani’s degree in Criminology.”

“When did Brianna join the force.”

“Brie went to the Academy a year before Dani and Mike.   We had four children by then and thought we wouldn’t have anymore.”  He glanced over at Brie and sighed.  “Little did we know that Joey was waiting in the wings.”

They worked their routines silently for five or ten minutes, then Elliot stretched his arms and wiped sweat from his face with a towel. 

“It must have been rough when Mike died.”

Kevin walked over to one of the windows and looked out at the ocean, his hazel eyes bright with emotion.  “It’s been four years and I still can’t believe he’s gone.”  He said quietly.  “We were all in a daze over it, but Dani … I took all the weapons out of their house.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah.  They didn’t have any kids.”  He turned and gave Elliot an assessing look.  “Did she talk to you about that?”

Elliot nodded.  "The night we drove back from Attica.”

“Thanks for that, by the way, helping her make peace with it all,” Kevin said.  “They were everything to each other.  She was so numb when he died, we thought she was going to follow him.  Her parents wanted her to come back to Denmark with them, but she wouldn’t.  So Brie and I brought her home with us.”

He looked Elliot in the eyes.  “She’s family, you gotta understand that.  When she started talking about you, her new pain in the ass partner, we didn’t pay it any mind.  Then it was “Elliot this” and “Elliot that.”  Kevin looked away.

“What?”  Elliot asked.

“I pulled your jacket.  We needed to know who ‘Elliot’ was. “  Kevin paused when Elliot turned and walked away.   He followed Elliot out the door, ignoring the puzzled looks from Brie and Dani.  He caught up with him at the elevator.

“I don’t blame you for being pissed.  I just thought you had a right to know.”

Elliot got in Kevin’s face.  “Just how in the hell did you justify pulling my jacket with my Captain?”

“There _are_ a few perks to being a lieutenant, you know,” he said, and then shrugged his shoulders.  “We’re always on the lookout for a good detective in Brooklyn Homicide.   Word on the internal grapevine is that you and your partner … Benson, right? … are having a few problems.  I wanted to know why.”

“That’s none of your fucking business, sir!”  Elliot said between clenched teeth.

Kevin raised his hands in a placating gesture.  “You’re right, you’re right.  I just wanted to be straight with you, man.“  He moved a hand over the sensor to keep the elevator doors open.  “For what it’s worth, I think you’re a good cop, Elliot.  Mike would have liked you.”  He clapped Elliot on the shoulder before the doors closed.

A few minutes later, Elliot stood under the hot spray in his shower and grudgingly admitted that he would have done the same thing in Kevin’s position.

*        *        *       *       *       *       *

The week passed swiftly.  After perusing the Conference Schedule, Elliot decided he’d attend panels and seminars in the “New Law Enforcement Procedures” and “Special Victims of Violent Crimes” tracks.  On Monday, he attended back-to-back panels from 1 to 6 pm, and then he met up with Dani, Brie, and Kevin in the hotel lobby for dinner at 6:30.

The group walked two blocks to the Santa Monica Pier and had Maine lobsters at a seafood restaurant appropriately named _The Lobster_.  Afterwards they explored the shops along the Santa Monica Pier and rode several rides at the Pier’s famed amusement park.  When they returned to the hotel, they walked around the rear of the building and took a Midnight stroll along the beach. 

Tuesday at 5 pm, Brie pulled out her West Los Angeles travel guide and plotted their evening.  They walked up to Santa Monica Boulevard and caught the number 2 Santa Monica bus to Westwood.  They looked around a bit and then decided to have dinner at a place named _Hamburger Hamlet_.  Brie shuddered while watching Elliot and Kevin consume fried onion strips delivered as a side item with their burgers.  After dinner, they walked up a block to the Mann Village Theater to see the new James Bond film,  _Casino Royale_.  They argued on the bus, and all the way back to the hotel, over whether or not Daniel Craig was a suitable Bond.  Elliot and Kevin thought Craig was too short and blond for the role, while Brie and Dani argued that there was 'nothing' short on Daniel.

Wednesday they walked three blocks to the 3rd Street Promenade and explored the shops and bookstores.   They had fish and chips at a small, quaint British pub named _King George the IV_.  Dani declared it was the best cod she’d had since coming to America.  The wait staff, Brits all, charmed them and everyone enjoyed the Irish and Scottish ales.   After dinner, they strolled down to the Santa Monica Place Mall where Elliot and the Whelans bought souvenirs for their kids.

Thursday evening Brie and Kevin decided to stay in and order room service, leaving Dani and Elliot on their own.  They had avoided talking about Dani’s departure from SVU for the past four days, but Elliot didn’t want to return to New York with it still between them.

He found her standing outside on one of the decks looking at the ocean.  The air was damp and cold.  He walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist.  He leaned his cheek against hers.  She leaned her head back against his shoulder and then turned in his arms, brushing her lips against his.  She put her hands on either side of his head and sucked gently on his top lip, then his bottom lip, and then she delved inside his mouth for a long, wet kiss. 

Dani pulled away when Elliot took control of the kiss.  She touched his forehead with hers and whispered, “Sorry ... sorry … I can’t—“

“It’s all right,” he said, his breathing labored.  “We need to talk.”

“I know,” she said, and then she laughed.  “Millions of men around the world just fainted.”

“I’m a little shocked myself, “ he said with a smile.  “Come on, let’s get outta this cold.”

They entered the hotel and bypassed the restaurant in favor of the bar.   The room was warm and inviting, with two fireplaces crackling with flames on opposite walls.   They sat at a table next to a window facing the ocean.  It wasn’t hard for the server to talk them into ordering hot chocolate with amaretto while they looked over the bar’s menu.  

As soon as the server left with their food order, Dani closed her eyes and took a deep breath.   “Look, I didn’t mean … I wasn’t saying goodbye to y _ou_ , Elliot,” she said, her eyes pleading for understanding. “When I said goodbye, it was to SVU, to being your partner.

He nodded.  “When I said you’d have to be there for yourself and not for me, I didn’t mean it as a brush off, Dani.  I just didn’t want to be responsible for making you more miserable; and you would have been, if you’d stayed.   In the end you would’ve resented me for it, and I didn’t wanna take the risk of …” He took a swallow of the spiked hot chocolate and looked away from her.  “But you left anyway, didn’t you?”

“Elliot, I didn’t leave you.”

“You said goodbye.  That sounded pretty damn final to me.”

She gave him a shrewd look.  “Just like your wife?”

Elliot looked out the window.

“Is that why you didn’t call me?” she pressed.   “Because you were afraid I was running away from something inside of you?”

“Well thank you, Dr. Beck,” Elliot said sarcastically.  He gave her a narrow-eyed stare.  “And what about you, huh?  What fear-based impulse kept you from calling me?”

She toyed with the ring hanging from a chain around her neck.  “When … after your wife and daughter come into the ER … when I left the room I looked back through the blinds.  The picture you made, the three of you together … it looked like you were where you were supposed to be.”  She looked at her hot chocolate as if seeing it for the first time.  Her hand shook slightly as she brought the cup to her lips.   “When I saw you with Kathy in the ER it made me realize that you didn’t belong to me.   And when you didn’t ask me to stay in SVU, or at least to stay in your life,” she looked down at her hands. “I thought you’d decided to go back to her.”

Elliot rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward.  “Kathy and I were married for twenty-one years,” he said.  “A part of me will always love her, just like a part of you will always love Mike.”

“That night when we kissed in the parking lot was just need and loneliness, wasn’t it?”  She toyed with the ring and looked into one of the fireplaces.

“Come on, Dani.   It’s been four years since Mike died and I’ve been separated for nearly three.   If it were just need and loneliness, wouldn’t we have found somebody to take care of it by now?  I get it thrown at me nearly every day, and I’ll bet you do too.”

She narrowed her eyes and raised her chin.  “How do you know I don’t have somebody to take care of my needs?”

“Cause you’re still wearing Mike’s ring.”  He nodded at her neck.

Dani bent her left arm on the table and leaned her forehead against her hand.  “Elliot … I’m afraid,” she whispered.

He nodded, acknowledging what he’d already suspected.  “I’m afraid too, but the truth is … I do it for you, and you do it for me.   Chemistry, respect, and compatibility with a woman I really like isn’t something I’m just gonna walk away from.”

Dani licked her lips.  “If we—if we start this … I’m afraid you’ll go back to your wife.”

“No.”

“But you might.”

“Not gonna happen.  I signed the divorce papers last month.”

Their eyes met and held.  Something palpable passed between them, full of need and desire and promise.  Elliot’s eyes held something more—something raw and magnetic; a primitive light that set his sapphire eyes aflame.  Dani blushed from the intimate force of it, feeling it keenly in the pit of her stomach, unaware of the flame in her own eyes.  She licked her lips and Elliot’s blazing eyes followed her tongue’s motion. 

“So,” he said.  “I’d like to see you, date you ... get to know you.”  He took one of her hands in his.  “What I need to know, what I need to hear is … are you interested?”

Dani gave him an impish look and smiled.  “Yes, with a caveat. “

Elliot saw their server returning with their food.  “I’m listening.”

She touched his cheek with her hand.  “No more being alone together until your divorce is final, yeah?”

Elliot licked his bottom lip and then sucked it into his mouth, wondering which of them would give in to their attraction first.  It just seemed so against nature to deny the chemistry between them if only for another month.  “Okay,” he said, hoping he’d be able to keep his promise.

*       *         *         *         *         *         *

One month later Dani strolled into the SVU squad room.  Elliot looked up in surprise and delight.

“Hey!” he said, getting up from his desk to meet her.  “What brings you down here?”

“You.  Can you get away for dinner?”

“Yeah, I think I can manage—oh, come meet my partner."  Elliot steered her over to the coffee station.  "Olivia Benson," he made a gesture with his hand, "meet Dani Beck.”

Dani tilted her head and narrowed her eyes as she looked at Olivia.  “We’ve met, haven’t we?  You came here looking for Elliot about three weeks before I left.”

Elliot turned to Olivia. “You did?  Why didn’t you stick around?”

Olivia had the grace to duck her head and blush.  “Yeah, listen, I’m sorry about that,” she said, nodding her head.  “I should’ve told you who I was.”  She shook Dani’s hand.  “Nice to meet you.” She gave Dani a final look and a nod and then turned and walked back to her desk.

Elliot grabbed his coat.  “Liv, come join us for dinner,” he said over his shoulder.

“I can’t, El.  I’ve got plans.”  Olivia looked at the two of them, noting their body language.  “But thanks,” she said.

Elliot looked at Dani and raised an eyebrow.  “What about …”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered,” she said with a smile.  She looked over at Fin and Munch.  “Hey guys, are you ready?”

“For a free meal?  You don’t have to ask me twice,” said Fin.

“Show some gratitude, partner,” Munch said while putting on his coat.  “It’s not every day a beautiful woman treats us to dinner.

Captain Cragen came out of his office.  “Did you decide to come back to SVU, Dani?”

“Not a chance,” she said with a grin.  “Are you free to join us for dinner?  My treat.”

“Olivia, hold down the fort,” Cragen said, grabbing his coat.

Benson watched them leave and then walked over to the main data terminal and typed in “Beck, Dani.”

 

To Be Continued ... Maybe


End file.
